How many times have you heard someone say that they were losing their marbles? It may be frightening to say the least, but for most of us, it only comes as an expression of momentary frustration There may come a time when this could be more of a concern, but let's hope that remains a "distant" worry.
However, when I was in grade school, we played marbles as a means of passing the time before school and at recess. We had bags to carry our glass wares to and from school; some, I recall, had the local bank's logo on it. We'd start by digging the hole using the heel of our shoes and rotate until we had it perfect. Then we'd set up a line about 10 feet away from which we would pitch our marbles. You'd flick them towards the hole with your knuckle down or play "bootsie shoves" with your foot, kicking those little spheres closer to their destination. Games would go until the bell would ring signaling the time to "line up" for our parade into school. Countless games were played at various sites around the school yard or at home along the driveway. The last marble in would determine the winner and with it, a "hole" full of marbles, cat's eyes, poppers and others. Each of us had favorites too, that made winning paramount. Some you'd win, some you'd lose, and that was about how we viewed it. Tomorrow would be another day to replay for that favorite, lost marble.
Marbles, like so many of the games from our youth, served us well. We learned rules and hopefully, followed them; we developed physical and mental skills that could be applied later in life; but more importantly, we had fun. And as I reflect back, I feel that it wasn't so much about the marbles I lost, but most about those I didn't lose. I sure hope I have enough of those to keep playing for a long, long time!
Friday, January 8, 2010
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Shuffling off like we were in Buffalo
Running can be a particularly difficult task in the dead of winter, but when there is snow on the ground, it's a whole new ballgame. Although my friends and I are extremely committed, perhaps should even be committed, we run throughout the year; rain and ice are the only weather advisories of concern. So, whether the calendar says January or July, it is up at 6:00 am to meet the guys for the early morning run. The only difference is the time it takes to get ready, since the winter weather dictates several wardrobe adjustments. We believe in "layering" it on, first for the run and then during the round table discussion that follows.
So far, the winter has been unkind to us, snow without the benefit of thawing temperatures. That has forced us to "reshuffle" the scheduled days for running to avoid the snow covered thoroughfares. However, even with all the sophisticated weather monitoring that is available today, we still encounter mornings where we are "forced" to run in the snow. What a tragedy it is, running in these wintry conditions when the noise is muffled, and the scenes are right out of a Robert Frost poem. Too bad for us!
However, we do have to make some modifications to accommodate to these conditions. The stride length shortens and the core muscles tighten to prevent falling, but the most obvious change is the gait change which resembles more of a shuffle than anything else. Ooh! Ooh! I have this sudden urge for wings, because if that frozen stuff keeps falling, I guess we all will just shuffle off like it was Buffalo. And from what I have seen, we might as well be there!
So far, the winter has been unkind to us, snow without the benefit of thawing temperatures. That has forced us to "reshuffle" the scheduled days for running to avoid the snow covered thoroughfares. However, even with all the sophisticated weather monitoring that is available today, we still encounter mornings where we are "forced" to run in the snow. What a tragedy it is, running in these wintry conditions when the noise is muffled, and the scenes are right out of a Robert Frost poem. Too bad for us!
However, we do have to make some modifications to accommodate to these conditions. The stride length shortens and the core muscles tighten to prevent falling, but the most obvious change is the gait change which resembles more of a shuffle than anything else. Ooh! Ooh! I have this sudden urge for wings, because if that frozen stuff keeps falling, I guess we all will just shuffle off like it was Buffalo. And from what I have seen, we might as well be there!
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Pearls from the Heart-land
How could we celebrate the 4th of July without fireworks? For that matter, how could any major event be complete without the anticipation of a heavenly gaze to view the splash of color we call fireworks. It is simply too hard to imagine. Except for a select few, this extravaganza is a time honored tradition to behold and hopefully enjoyed by all.
As I recall, many of our summer trips to Iowa seemed to coincide with the July Fourth celebration. Older cousins would thrill us with their handling of firecrackers while sparklers were just right for the youngsters in the crowd, like me. Once I remember my brother just did toss his firecracker in time enough not to do significant bodily harm, thank God. That was the end of that risky behavior. But what I remember most were the "Atom Pearls". These little, multicolored balls, filled with some sort of "explosive", were designed to pop after throwing them firmly to the ground. We'd walk downtown to Wesell's store and pick up packs of these mighty orbs. If grandpa was with us, he'd throw in some balsa wood airplanes to insure that a good time was had by all. The scene back at the house was like a summer camp. Kids launching planes while others were throwing their pearls, either one at a time or in multiples, giving a sequential barrage of "pops". What could be better than this? Fireworks, of course? So after dinner, we'd head over to the neighboring town to view the display. I am sure that this epitomized small town America, and here we were in its' breadbasket.
Fireworks mean many things to many people, and everyone has a personal favorite to tell. For me, while anticipating the show, I oftentimes find myself daydreaming about those days back in Iowa with my Grandpa, not so much about the fireworks, but about the whole constellation of events. The time on the farm, the walks to the cemetery, the trips to the dump, the train coming through town, sitting on the porch, and of course, the "Atom Pearls" all touch off memories of a time gone by. So the next time I crane my head and look to the heavens, I'll be reminded of the fun in Iowa and pray there is an encore performance to the grand finale!
As I recall, many of our summer trips to Iowa seemed to coincide with the July Fourth celebration. Older cousins would thrill us with their handling of firecrackers while sparklers were just right for the youngsters in the crowd, like me. Once I remember my brother just did toss his firecracker in time enough not to do significant bodily harm, thank God. That was the end of that risky behavior. But what I remember most were the "Atom Pearls". These little, multicolored balls, filled with some sort of "explosive", were designed to pop after throwing them firmly to the ground. We'd walk downtown to Wesell's store and pick up packs of these mighty orbs. If grandpa was with us, he'd throw in some balsa wood airplanes to insure that a good time was had by all. The scene back at the house was like a summer camp. Kids launching planes while others were throwing their pearls, either one at a time or in multiples, giving a sequential barrage of "pops". What could be better than this? Fireworks, of course? So after dinner, we'd head over to the neighboring town to view the display. I am sure that this epitomized small town America, and here we were in its' breadbasket.
Fireworks mean many things to many people, and everyone has a personal favorite to tell. For me, while anticipating the show, I oftentimes find myself daydreaming about those days back in Iowa with my Grandpa, not so much about the fireworks, but about the whole constellation of events. The time on the farm, the walks to the cemetery, the trips to the dump, the train coming through town, sitting on the porch, and of course, the "Atom Pearls" all touch off memories of a time gone by. So the next time I crane my head and look to the heavens, I'll be reminded of the fun in Iowa and pray there is an encore performance to the grand finale!
Monday, January 4, 2010
Going green sure made "cents" for US
Remember when bottles could be returned for 2 pennies apiece? If it hadn't been for this little cash cow, I wouldn't have survived childhood. Let me give you my 2 cents worth in recounting this childhood, entrepreneurial endeavor.
Many times, while either my brothers and I or my friends and I were out playing, we found ourselves getting thirsty or hungry. Mind you, we probably had been out playing from sun up to well into the afternoon before we were remotely aware of our famished state. So, what did we do? In those days, none of us had an allowance, so we turned to the next best thing, scrounging for bottles. There always seemed to be a stash at either the ball parks or the local football stadium, especially following a Saturday game. Naturally, we had no reservations about "rummaging" around, provided we could come away with the necessary booty. Generally, we'd collect a half dozen or so bottles each and turn them in to "Ted's", "Liberty Market", or "Belanger's", all local mom and pop stores in the "hood". After we'd redeem our cache of bottles for cash, we'd tediously make our selections spending exactly the amount of our windfall. Simple economics really. Oh then, how we would savor the fruits of our labor, while sitting on the stone wall or leaning on the store front. Bulls eye's, jaw breakers, atomic fire balls, pixie stix, maybe a pop, and the delicious "brownie bar" would grace our palates. I can almost taste them right now.
Some states still have the bottle return policy, but the art of this ancient ritual is fading and known only to those of us who practiced it faithfully during our childhood. We really didn't think of it as helping to save the environment. We were "foot soldiers" looking for a way to fuel our cause. We were on a mission; and once the returns were in, I think you'll agree, we became "food soldiers"!
Many times, while either my brothers and I or my friends and I were out playing, we found ourselves getting thirsty or hungry. Mind you, we probably had been out playing from sun up to well into the afternoon before we were remotely aware of our famished state. So, what did we do? In those days, none of us had an allowance, so we turned to the next best thing, scrounging for bottles. There always seemed to be a stash at either the ball parks or the local football stadium, especially following a Saturday game. Naturally, we had no reservations about "rummaging" around, provided we could come away with the necessary booty. Generally, we'd collect a half dozen or so bottles each and turn them in to "Ted's", "Liberty Market", or "Belanger's", all local mom and pop stores in the "hood". After we'd redeem our cache of bottles for cash, we'd tediously make our selections spending exactly the amount of our windfall. Simple economics really. Oh then, how we would savor the fruits of our labor, while sitting on the stone wall or leaning on the store front. Bulls eye's, jaw breakers, atomic fire balls, pixie stix, maybe a pop, and the delicious "brownie bar" would grace our palates. I can almost taste them right now.
Some states still have the bottle return policy, but the art of this ancient ritual is fading and known only to those of us who practiced it faithfully during our childhood. We really didn't think of it as helping to save the environment. We were "foot soldiers" looking for a way to fuel our cause. We were on a mission; and once the returns were in, I think you'll agree, we became "food soldiers"!
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Re-prioritize, now that's "Bloggable"
Since starting my blog, I have found that there seems to be an abundance of "stuff" to get down on "paper". Some of the topics are from memories of the past and others are simply observations put to print.
While thinking of my schedule for the week to come, I realized the obvious. There still is never enough time in the day to get everything done. Sleep, work, exercise, and eating all seem to be essential elements of any given day. Then there is that list of extras that should be accomplished, but who knows when that will happen? And that list seems to be a target on the move.
So, I find myself asking the question, "What do I really need to do right now"? Certainly I have my list of priorities, but that second tier of tasks or extras to be done is always in a state of flux and may have to be "re-prioritized". Well, I am going to finish up with this, so I can move on to the next item on my list. Oh no, it's time for bed, and that is a priority!
While thinking of my schedule for the week to come, I realized the obvious. There still is never enough time in the day to get everything done. Sleep, work, exercise, and eating all seem to be essential elements of any given day. Then there is that list of extras that should be accomplished, but who knows when that will happen? And that list seems to be a target on the move.
So, I find myself asking the question, "What do I really need to do right now"? Certainly I have my list of priorities, but that second tier of tasks or extras to be done is always in a state of flux and may have to be "re-prioritized". Well, I am going to finish up with this, so I can move on to the next item on my list. Oh no, it's time for bed, and that is a priority!
Saturday, January 2, 2010
01022010, backwards and forwards
Numbers play such a critical role in our daily lives, it would be hard not to notice them. Most days start and end by looking at a clock full of numbers. While driving to work, we notice the speedometer, the speed limits, all while listening to the radio whose name is associated with a number. Numbers are all around indeed, and sometimes they mean so much more.
When I was a youngster, my brothers and sisters would visit my grandparents who lived in Boston. It was a real treat to spend a weekend or at least an overnight with them. One of my fondest memories from those days was heading on up the street to the local bakery, Lyndell's. Grandma generally would call ahead with her order which included round bread, a chocolate mousse cake, and my favorite, their apple pie. Upon entering the bakery, we'd walk over to the ticket dispenser to take a number. One by one, customers were waited on by the staff. I couldn't wait for our number to come up and be announced and simultaneously show up on the "now serving" sign. The anticipation was palpable. After collecting the order, my siblings and I usually got to pick something special for ourselves, like a cookie or an eclair. Our mouths would be watering for the taste. By the time we walked home, we had worked up an appetite enough to guarantee we'd get one of those tasty morsels. Grandma was always easy to convince too!
As I notice the palindromic appearance of today's date, I am reminded of those happy times at my grandparents. Not because of the date itself, but more because it has given me a chance to reflect "back" on those days. And as I look "forward" to the future, I realize how lucky I've been, how fortunate I am, and how bright the future should be because of that heritage. So take a number, because 01022010 is now being served!
When I was a youngster, my brothers and sisters would visit my grandparents who lived in Boston. It was a real treat to spend a weekend or at least an overnight with them. One of my fondest memories from those days was heading on up the street to the local bakery, Lyndell's. Grandma generally would call ahead with her order which included round bread, a chocolate mousse cake, and my favorite, their apple pie. Upon entering the bakery, we'd walk over to the ticket dispenser to take a number. One by one, customers were waited on by the staff. I couldn't wait for our number to come up and be announced and simultaneously show up on the "now serving" sign. The anticipation was palpable. After collecting the order, my siblings and I usually got to pick something special for ourselves, like a cookie or an eclair. Our mouths would be watering for the taste. By the time we walked home, we had worked up an appetite enough to guarantee we'd get one of those tasty morsels. Grandma was always easy to convince too!
As I notice the palindromic appearance of today's date, I am reminded of those happy times at my grandparents. Not because of the date itself, but more because it has given me a chance to reflect "back" on those days. And as I look "forward" to the future, I realize how lucky I've been, how fortunate I am, and how bright the future should be because of that heritage. So take a number, because 01022010 is now being served!
Friday, January 1, 2010
A Slice of Pi for the New Year
The entire universe is made up of various geometric shapes and sizes. Some are regular, like squares and rectangles. Others are odd and uneven, thus making it more mathematically difficult to measure them. Fortunately, there are mathematicians who can figure out the equations in order to understand all of this. So, as we embark on a new year, I thought this might be a good time to view this coming year as a "hole".
So let's slice up the year like we would cutting a pie into 12 equal pieces. January is notoriously the coldest, but that shouldn't deter anyone from pounding the pavement with their New Year's resolutions. February is all about the past, past Presidents to be exact. March brings us the Ides of March, but if you have a friend named Brutus, watch out. April is all about taxes, and I think it does that, taxes most of us. May brings us Mother's Day, and where would we be without our mothers? June brings us Father's Day, and where would be without them? July we celebrate the 4th, and we owe so much to those founding fathers. August is all about the heat and humidity. September ushers in the Fall, and relief for parents when the kids return to school. October reminds us of the changing foliage and Halloween. November, we give thanks for what has been given to us. And then there is December, a month to remember with all the celebration.
Where does this all get us? You guessed it, right back where we started. So, if we think of the year as a trip around the "hole", that makes it the circumference. And without Pi, we'd be lost. You couldn't figure out where you'd been, where you are, or where you're going. And that is a recipe for disaster no matter how you slice it. Oh, by the way, I'll have another piece please!
So let's slice up the year like we would cutting a pie into 12 equal pieces. January is notoriously the coldest, but that shouldn't deter anyone from pounding the pavement with their New Year's resolutions. February is all about the past, past Presidents to be exact. March brings us the Ides of March, but if you have a friend named Brutus, watch out. April is all about taxes, and I think it does that, taxes most of us. May brings us Mother's Day, and where would we be without our mothers? June brings us Father's Day, and where would be without them? July we celebrate the 4th, and we owe so much to those founding fathers. August is all about the heat and humidity. September ushers in the Fall, and relief for parents when the kids return to school. October reminds us of the changing foliage and Halloween. November, we give thanks for what has been given to us. And then there is December, a month to remember with all the celebration.
Where does this all get us? You guessed it, right back where we started. So, if we think of the year as a trip around the "hole", that makes it the circumference. And without Pi, we'd be lost. You couldn't figure out where you'd been, where you are, or where you're going. And that is a recipe for disaster no matter how you slice it. Oh, by the way, I'll have another piece please!
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